Re: [B&B: Nishka and Atticus]
He looked back at her as he walked. "Own the place. Live in the Carriage House in the back," Atticus said, turning his attention to the hallway again. Was a narrow space. Everything in the B&B was narrow, but the kitchen it opened up to was big and old and shining. Cisco managed the place these days, but it still made Atticus think of Connie.
He walked across the kitchen, and he opened the fridge and pulled out two Heineken; Atticus wasn't complicated when it came to beer. Held one up to her, wordlessly asking if she wanted one.
Noticed the man then.
Over her shoulder. Dark hair, blood everywhere and a sad, mournful expression on his face. Wasn't one of the regular residents of the B&B. Wasn't anyone Atticus had seen in town. The wolf didn't like it, and Atticus showed a hint of gleaming white incisor. Small thing. There and gone, but the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck were prickled, and he walked across the kitchen and put the beers on the counter. Fished a bottle opener out of the drawer. Tossed his pack of smokes on the counter too; needed one. Turned and found a small plate for an ashtray, dampened it, and set it on the counter. "Do you mind?" Pulled a cigarette from the pack.
Glanced at the man again. James. Belonged to this woman. Kept looking at her. Atticus had been seeing haunts since he could remember. Living people, dead people, they had been a part of his life since he was a child. At first, he'd thought they were all the same. Hadn't realized other people did talk to them or see them. Looked the man over. Listened. Accident. Young. Unfortunate. Glanced at the woman's midsection.
"Atticus. Didn't introduce myself. You're?" He tapped the cigarette on the counter. "Accident?" Motioned to where her hand rubbed her ribs.